the Beginnings of an End
by ThatGirlInAGrayCardigan
Summary: Athelreda's world was perfect- there was nothing more she could ever ask for. But suddenly, the kingdom of Rohan is attacked by the savage Orcs. Ten thousands more of armed Orcs were coming, as the War of the Ring begins. Will Athelreda ever get her old life back?
1. Chapter 1

Hello,

I would like to say that this is my very first fanfiction. But, it isn't my first time to write or post one. The original and first version of this story was "Leather-Covered and Blue as Midnight". But thanks to Borys68, I was able to improve on it, to make it seem much more realistic for a story that took place in Middle-earth, and precisely in Rohan, here at its beginning.

Please enjoy, and feel free to post your opinions on how the story might be improved. Thanks! :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings or any of its original characters.**

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><p><em>And the two lovers were finally reconciled.<em>

_The rest of Eldlynne and the brave Beornric's young lives were celebrated in love and laughter._

_The End._

Athelreda sighed as she stared at that last page of her favorite book. It was given to her by her sweet, beloved grandmother, who passed away many years ago, when she was just a young lass of thirteen. She closed the book, and ran her fingers down the length of its cover, blue as the midnight sky. Athelreda left her chair, leaving her book on the small kitchen table. She walked towards the window and flung its wooden shutters wide open. She smiled and let the cool breeze whip her flaming, red hair behind her as it swirled around her tall frame. She rested her hands on the windowsill as she gazed at the breathtaking colors of the magnificent sunset. The sun was ablaze in a fiery orange, while the sky blushed a delicate, salmon pink. The sky beyond the wide stretch of pink was being consumed by a light, dreamy purple, where the stars started coming alive with their bright, twinkling, white lights.

Two loud, sharp knocks jarred her back into reality.

"Athelhart, is that you?" Athelreda said as she hurriedly scurried towards the heavy wooden door, in the entrance hall, leading to the dining room. Unlocking the latch, she opened the door to be greeted with the sly grin of her older brother. He was tapping his foot impatiently against the cobbled pathway. Once he saw his sister, he stopped and rolled his green eyes, which were identical to hers. Truly, they resembled each other- they both shared the same fair skin, sharp, high cheekbones, and the same determined but attractive looks. But then as Althreda's hair was a billowing, red flame, Athelhart's was dark brown, like rough tree bark.

"Where is Father?" Athelreda asked, once he stepped inside.

"Oh, he's coming soon," Athelhart smirked, "he just got into some conversation with Old Baldric, you know, the farmer who lives just down Eadilda's street," he gestured with his hand towards the door, then going north. "He told me to 'just go ahead, go home!'" he imitated their father's deep, rumbling voice, causing his sister to laugh. "He wanted me to tell you to go ahead and cook dinner, he's starving."

"It's almost finished. But you… You're not?" Athelreda said, amused.

"I am," he replied impatiently. "Oh, I really am. I want to eat a delicious meal after my triumph over that sly Ceoldred."

"You won the bet?" She said, unbelieving. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Yea. I did. He now owes me fifty silver coins. That fox got what he deserved." Athelhart's eyes were glinting with mischief, and his mouth was pasted on his face in a huge, triumphant grin. "So, what are you are cooking?"

"Oh! Yes! Thank you for reminding me!" Athelreda flashed a smile at her brother and headed for the kitchen, him following close behind. Athelreda took a thick cloth and wrapped it around the metal handle of the lid, so as not to burn her hand. She lifted it, and out came a rich, pumpkin aroma.

Another set of impatient knocks came. "Please answer the door for me, brother. That must be Father. I have to bring Mother her dinner,"

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><p>Under the hot, glaring sun, Athelreda heaved the heavy burden of her mother's market bag. Sweat was trickling down her forehead, and into her eyes, which she irritatedly wiped off with her sleeve. Her breath came in pants as she struggled down the cobbled pathway. The marketplace was noisy, the people filling the air with buzzing conversations. There were shouts from men unloading their carts of boxes with meats, fruits, and vegetables. There were colorful stands everywhere, one beside another, forming rows with narrow passes in between. Athelreda stopped in a gloomy, isolated corner and set the bag down on the sidewalk beside her feet, her eyes darting from one spot to another. "Where could Athelhart be?" she muttered under her breath.<p>

Suddenly, a push came from behind her, knocking her down to the ground. With a scream, she fell, along with the bag. Out the contents went- the apples rolling farther along with the turnips and onions, the vegetables sprawled all over, and the meats leaking blood out of their thin skin coverings. Athelreda suddenly felt hands, one grabbing her arm and the other curled around her waist. She found herself standing once again, looking into the man's eyes. She smiled, her eyes lighting up, "Cennoth?"

The man's pale blue eyes twinkled and he said, almost whispering, "Athelreda, I've missed you so…" he trailed off, speechless. Then he chuckled, "I'm so sorry, I should've been more careful. I really didn't see you. I was carrying all those," he motioned with a turn of his head towards the stacked wooden boxes filled with turnips. Then, Cennoth bent down and started picking up the spilled goods on the pathway, and carefully placing them back into the bag.

Athelreda bent down too, and said, "I haven't seen you in quite a long time. The last time we met was during the Eadilda's birthday celebration."

"I heard that your brother is courting her, yes?"

"True. He's head-over-heels in love with my best friend. It's quite awkward, you know."

"I can tell," Cennoth chuckled and put the last carrot in. "I was off in my grandfather's house, at the very edge of Rohan."

But he suddenly looked down in shame. She cupped her hand under his chin and tilted his head back up so that he faced her. He was stubborn though. He let his eyes stay fixed, staring at their feet. "Whatever is the matter? Tell me, please."

After a pause, he said, at last, "My inheritance- it's gone, destroyed."

"What?" Athelreda gasped in disbelief. "What happened?"

"Do you remember the land at the very border of Rohan, which will belong to me when my beloved mother and father are gone? It is huge, stretching many miles wide. We use it to produce crops, and that is where our barn is, too. All our cows, horses, chickens, and pigs take shelter there and are fed…" he trailed off, his features rumpling into an expression of despair and grief. "Well, all that is now gone. The barn was burned down and completely destroyed, and so were the planting and harvesting tools. The animals were probably taken away, for there were no remains of them, not even their tracks. The unharvested crops were taken away too, or burned down along with the orchards. The land can no longer be used, for it became as hard as stone, they had cursed it."

"Who could have done such a thing?" Athelreda's brows furrowed in worry, her eyes showing great concern.

"I wouldn't know that. No-one does. But there have been rumors of mysterious, frightening folk, chopping down the trees and burning everything that comes their way." Cennoth continued in a hushed voice, "I don't know if I'll be able to ask your father for your hand anymore."

"No, Cennoth. We will find a way. I can work, and I am fine with that. I no longer care if my father will be enraged when he finds this out, but if he truly loves me, he would want me to be happy."


	2. Chapter 2

Hi there!

I'd like to know what you think of this chapter, so please leave a review!

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings or any of its original characters.**

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><p>"Hello? Is anyone home?" Athelreda called. She heard hurried, light steps and the unlocking of the latch. The heavy whitewashed door gave a low groan as it was opened by a young girl. It was Eadilda's sister, Eadgytha. She was just ten, eight years younger than her sister. She looked up with her big brown eyes and warmly welcomed her with a bright smile. She beckoned her to come in and told her to sit on the nearby upholstered armchair while waiting for Eadilda. As she ran up the stairs to call her older sister, Athelreda was left alone in the living room. Beside it, and in plain view, was the dining room, with a rectangular wooden table that could be occupied by seven. Its legs and sides were carved into the likeness of a crawling vine, with leaves and flowers and the flowing stem that connected them all. The windows were wide open, letting the fresh afternoon air come in, making the delicate white curtains gracefully flutter about. The light that streamed in from the windows gave light enough for one to see, but it was quite dim.<p>

"Athelreda!" a voice exclaimed. She turned her head, and saw her friend at the bottom of the stairs. She wore a floor-length brown outer dress like a pinafore, which was worn with a belt, while her cream-colored linen under-dress reached up to her wrists. Around her neck was a simple golden beaded necklace, a gift from her birthday celebration months ago. She wore a warm smile, and her eyes were shining bright.

"Oh, Eadilda, it's so nice to see you!" noticing her smile, she smiled too, mischievously, and asked, "What makes you so happy today? Hmm?"

"Oh, you don't know!" Eadilda exclaimed, "Your brother never told you!? Oh, that won't do," she said, still smiling and shaking her head. She sat down beside her dear friend and continued, "Your brother proposed to me just last night! Oh! We're engaged! I'm the happiest, luckiest creature on earth! How I love him!" she laughed, her eyes glowing with pride and happiness.

A very surprised but joyous Athelreda replied, "Oh! He never told me! How could he!" she said in mock indignation. "I'm so happy for you! Did you settle the date of the wedding?"

"Oh, not yet. I was just too happy for words." She reminded Athelreda of how her brother had smiled so triumphantly the day before. Then Eadilda asked her, "But how does Cennoth fare?"

At that, Athelreda's bright smile faded. Her face fell as she looked down on the dark wooden floorboards. "What is the matter?" Eadilda said, clasping her hand.

"He will not marry me. His inheritance has been destroyed. None know who had done it, but all has been lost. Even the land can no longer be used. It has grown hard and dry. All of it—gone." Athelreda's eyes stung with tears that threatened to fall. She bit her lip, her face scrunching up into a hurt and desperate expression, her hands trembled in Eadilda's.

"Why would that be a matter if he truly loves you?" Eadilda asked, feeling for Athelreda's loss.

"He says that he will not allow it. That Father will _never_ allow it. He also said that he doesn't want me to struggle to earn a living, because it should be him who would provide for the family we would have…" she trailed off, looking back at Eadilda with watery eyes, she corrected herself, "The family we _could've _had."

"His reasons are reasonable, though I daresay you do not agree with me, or him, for that matter, yes?"

Athelreda glared helplessly at her for a moment, but her expression softened as she sighed and said, "I love him, and I do not want him to suffer and go through all this alone."

"But you see, give him time—"

"I want to, but my Father is so eager to get me married off so soon! As _he_ said, my Mother, although none of us want to acknowledge… is very ill, and—and has little time left. He himself is also quite old already. My brother will soon be married to you, and will have his own family to provide for. What—Oh, what a pain I will be, if I still need to be provided for by my brother—along with you and your children. And what an unhappy life I will have! And if I—I wish to stop being a pain to Athelhart's back, I shall have to work. So it will happen all the same, except it will be worse, I might die an old maid." She said this with such conviction, and ever so quickly that her words rushed and stumbled over each other as tears began streaming down her red, hot cheeks.

"Oh, Athelreda, what misery! Even I know not what to do about this! I know Cennoth, he is headstrong and stubborn. He will never listen, if he didn't listen to you." Eadilda fell silent and thoughtfully looked towards the open window. So did Athelreda.

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><p>After dinner with Eadilda and her family, Athelreda set off home. But she remembered. "Oh yes! I have to give this to Baldgard." She said to herself, clutching the small bag of coins in her satchel. So she headed for the Flaming Dragon Inn, not very far from Eadilda's home. The sun was sinking into the ground once again, announcing the end of the day. As the lanterns began to light up like the stars up in the heavens, she entered through the heavy door.<p>

On the other side of this door was a noisy, rowdy lot of men, feasting on the abundant supply of food, and mostly beer and ale. The shouting, hooting, talking and laughter deafened her, as she tried to squish her way through the bulging men with huge muscles and enormous stomachs. The air was thick with the smoke from the men's pipes, making her cough. She caught sight of a blonde head. "Baldgard! Baldgard!" She shouted repetitively, but the youth did not hear her. She stepped closer but was rammed by an obese, bearded man whose breath would've stunned a moose. He shouted at the blonde-haired man, demanding his order of steak and more ale. _I swear that bloated stomach of his is filled with ale,_ she thought. Baldgard, upon seeing her, calmly told his customer, "I've told you, we've run out of steak, and the mug of ale will come in a short while," he made his way then towards her, not stopping to wait for the other man's protests and complaints.

"Here," Athelreda handed the small bag to him. "That's my Father's payment for the barrel of ale he bought from your father just yesterday," she added as Baldgard opened it.

"Thank you," he smiled at her. "Do you mind waiting? I'll drive you back home."

"Oh, no thank you. I'll just walk." She smiled back politely.

"Too modest to ask anyone for favors… and to accept offers, as usual," he chuckled, shaking his head. "But just this once?"

"Fine."

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><p>The men left one by one, two by two, slowly. Some retreated back into their rooms, while some went out, with satisfied smiles on their reddened faces, to go back home. Only quite a few were left, compared to the riotous lot that filled the whole room only an hour ago. Athelreda kept herself busy reading a book Eadilda had lent her just that afternoon, during her visit. It was very interesting and humorous, about two brothers who were complete opposites, and thus, never agreed and always quarreled.<p>

"Athelreda," a soft voice sent her crashing back into reality. She marked the page, closed the book, and looked up. Baldgard gestured towards the door and said, impatiently, "Come on."

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><p>Once outside, Athelreda found the horses all hitched up and ready. Baldgard assisted her up the simple carriage, and then went up into the driver's seat. Silently, they started out, the rhythmic clattering of the horseshoes the only sound that could be heard. The wind was cool as it entered through the window and blew against her face.<p>

Suddenly, a shrill scream pierced the peaceful quiet like a sharp knife. A house not far off burst into bright, yellow-orange flames. It grew and soon consumed the house, leaking into the other beside it. People were running for their lives, children crying and the men calling out into the night, loading carts, gathering supplies, and getting ready to escape. More trees and houses caught flame as the carriage swerved to the opposite direction. The horses, frightened, neighed wildly and ran as fast as they could. The view from the window blurred and rushed past while the harsh screeches of unknown beings, along with the growls of their enormous hound-steeds, and the screams of people praying to the gods for their lives filled the air, sending the whole town into confusion and turmoil.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello!

I'm sorry if the first two chapters were pretty much boring. It's simply an introduction, so please be patient with me. If you're asking about why Athelreda seems only to care about marriage to Cennoth, may I remind you that back in the olden times, marriage was an assurance that a woman will be well provided for and taken care of. It was a taboo to have a woman work to earn a living. Besides, there were only few jobs at those times that a woman could do. Most jobs had something to do with farming and taking care of livestock. All a woman usually does those days was to stay at home to cook food, clean, and bear and nurse their children.

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><p>As the people were fighting for their lives, Fate did not let Athelreda and her companion Baldgard go on without conflict.<p>

They rode on, not stopping. "Where are you taking me?" Athelreda called, panic clearly ringing in her voice.

Shouting, so as to be heard above the noise, Baldgard said, "To my brother's home! He lives near the palace, where he is guard, and he shall keep us safe."

"But what of my family? Athelhart! Oh! Have you no pity!? Shan't we at least come to get your aged father?" she cried out frantically. Athelreda's mind raced. Her breathing and heartbeat quickened 'til it matched the drumming sound of the horse's hooves below. What would become of her family? What of Baldgard's and Eadilda's? What would become of them both, will they reach their destination safely despite the turmoil about them? She thought endlessly about her family, how desperate she was to see if they were safe. But she could not do anything about it. She could not open the carriage door and throw herself out—no, that would be suicide. What good would it do anyone? Definitely no good to her. _But it is just wrong to leave everyone else behind and try to escape by ourselves…_

"No!" came Baldgard's fierce reply. "We don't have—" he was interrupted as the wheel on the right side of the carriage was crushed and destroyed. Athelreda screamed as the carriage tilted, sending her sliding off to that side nearest to the ground, crashing into it.

…_all in vain_, she finished.

Through that side's window, she saw the cobbled pathway up close, and only inches from her nose, speeding away. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, drowning out all sound. She looked to her left and saw the legs of a wolf, beating against the ground in effort to outrun the horses. But this _wolf_ wasn't a wolf. No, it was much bigger, and succeeded the strength of a wolf too, as it bore a rider on its back. The rider carried an enormous club, made much more deadly with crudely-made but sharp, iron spikes. Athelreda tried to stand, falling more than once. At last she was able to steady herself, when a second came. Seeing them from afar, the black silhouette of a rider and steed bounded closer and closer with great speed. He carried a flaming torch in his hand. Athelreda whipped her head towards the open window leading to the driver's seat, where she saw Baldgard struggling to control the horses, wild with fright. They had already caused the direction of the carriage to change, thus bringing the second rider nearer. She called to him, "Baldgard! Get on a horse! I'm coming after you!" She grabbed a fallen shovel which was inside the carriage with her.

A bright flash jumped into the carriage, landing on the carriage floor. The wood immediately caught flame. It was thrown by a most hideous creature. His skin was a dark gray, and grimy and blood-splattered armor protected his torso. His face was disgustingly deformed, with lumps and sagging leathery skin. He had a fresh bleeding wound there too, deep and long. Nevertheless, a crooked smile was plastered on, inspired by such violent, evil thoughts and bloodlust that shone in his bulging eyes. He showed yellowed, gleaming, sharp teeth, and a print of a white hand covered half his face. The same brand was painted on his armor as well. He was definitely not a man. Nor was he one of the elves, who were said to be glorious and beautiful creatures. He could not be a dwarf, for dwarves did not ride atop ferocious carnivores. They were most probably orcs, the only creature that had traits that well described this she had before her, and they did not include glorious or beautiful at all. But weren't all those creatures from legends and folklores—stories told at night, during bedtime? Creatures that existed only as pictures drawn in books and scrolls?

When she was a child, Athelreda would've loved to live a thrilling life as a heroine who would win against the mightiest of orcs, befriend the elves and dwarves, and be married to the most handsome elf prince, impressed by her many feats and incomparable beauty, intelligence, and bravery. But now that she was faced by an orc, she wasn't feeling any of that bravery.

But then, Athelreda felt a sudden surge of strength and energy flow through her body. Her mind was alert, thinking, and aware. She looked back again to the window right behind the driver's seat. Baldgard was gone. She went through the small square window, her feet first. Once she felt the seat right under her soles, she slipped out completely. She almost lost balance and fell, grasping the window's frame just in time. She gulped, her face turning pale. Her hand throbbed from the sudden impact against the wooden frame.

Baldgard was fighting the orc who'd thrown the torch and sent the carriage burning. He had the horse whip, which he was mercilessly flinging at his enemy, while the enemy tried to block him with his armor-plated arms and retaliated with strokes of a broad sword. The orc slashed at his arm, causing him to release his grip on the whip. Baldgard looked up at his opponent in horror, grasping the wounded limb. The orc grinned, and raised his sword in preparation for the final blow. But, as quick as a flash, he retrieved a dagger, concealed in the edge of his pants, underneath the leather of his boot. He stabbed him in the chest; dark, glistening liquid spurting from the hole made by the blade. He pulled the blade back roughly and stabbed his steed on the head, too. They both fell and stayed behind, covered in blood, rider and steed.

Athelreda, meanwhile, battled the orc on their right. The orc had already received a deep wound on his shoulder from the edge of her shovel. He howled in pain as his 'wolf', or warg as Athelreda recalled, jumped over the dying horse that was separating them. The horse fell, and blood erupted from his side as he was trampled upon by the sharp-clawed carnivore. She trembled at the sight of it. Disgusted, she fought all the more fiercely. The orc swung his club from over his head, sweeping to the right. Athelreda screamed as she flung herself on the horse Baldgard was on. The driver's seat was smashed into splinters at the powerful impact of the club. They continued their fight, Baldgard struggling to calm the wounded and frightened horse. The orc once again raised his club high over his head. Athelreda quickly tried to deflect his blow, but the shovel's shaft split in half. Athelreda groaned painfully, some fingers dislocated. Still, she held on to the other end with the shovel itself, which she beat against the orc's head, upon catching him unprepared. Baldgard stabbed him on the chest, just as he did to the other one. He gave the blood-covered dagger to Athelreda, as his warg reared up, towering over the horse and its two riders. She stabbed it on the stomach, causing it to recoil and whimper in pain.

Athelreda wiped her brow, which was coated with sweat. She desperately tried to cut the thick ropes connecting their horse to the burning carriage. Already her eyes were smarting in the thick gray smoke, and it became difficult to breathe. The bright orange flames began to lick at the end of the rope, causing her to panic. Coughing, she finally cut it off completely. Relieved, she handed back the dagger, which Baldgard put back in its leather sheath. She wrapped her other arm around Baldgard's waist. The two rode on into the dark night, leaving the bloody corpses and burning carriage behind.

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><p>They were soon welcomed by Baldgard's brother, Baldnoth. They were twins, Baldnoth coming out first from their mother's womb. They both had light, blonde hair and icy blue eyes; yet they were as different as could be. Baldgard was calm, and brainy. But Baldnoth was rather rash in making decisions, and was easily angered. But he was a great warrior who, of course, favored war and fighting with the blade. But his brother detested unnecessary violence and worked peacefully at their father's inn. He had a skinny, lanky figure, unlike Baldnoth, who had bulging muscles. The sight of them talking with each other face to face reminded Athelreda about the two brothers in Eadilda's book. <em>Oh! Eadilda's book, alas!<em>, she winced as she remembered. _How could I forget? What shall I tell her?_ But she told herself firmly, _Oh, she will understand. No one in such perilous times would think about possessions such as those._ But, remembering her own beloved book that she had received from her grandmother, she thought about what her reaction would be if she found out that a page was accidentally torn. What more burned? That book was probably much more precious to Eadilda than any of her other possessions. She felt horrible.

"What is the matter, Athelreda?" Baldnoth asked anxiously, turning towards her.

"Oh, it is nothing. Please, do not trouble yourself too much about me, it is enough that you have received us in your home."

"If you insist, then I shall not bother you any longer," he said in reply. He grunted and continued, "Mind if I leave you two here? I have to check on our dinner." Then he walked out of the room, not giving enough time for a reply. Baldgard looked at the door, which his brother closed behind him. Creaking, the door was shut, a dull thud coming from it. Then, he sat down beside Athelreda at the edge of his bed. He groaned as his wound touched Athelreda's sleeve, hissing in breath between clenched teeth.

"Let me tend to your arm. I know of some herbs that may help in the healing of your wound, Baldnoth should have at least some of them here. And I can stitch almost as quickly and neatly as Leolida."

Baldgard smirked. Leolida was the old, cranky woman in the market who sold cloth and woven and knitted items. Her works and stitchery were very skillfully made by her nimble fingers, but they were quite overpriced. Yes, she was _quite_ stingy as well.

"Oh yes, if you will. This day has been a long day," he sighed and closed his eyes. In a soft voice, he said, "I wish it were so for our people, and may they have many more days to come."


End file.
